Cropredy

A couple weeks ago we went to the Cropredy folk festival, the 'secret garden' of festivals as Dreadzone described it.
The festival is hosted by veteran folk rockers Fairport Convention and attracts some 20,000 people to a small and picturesque Oxfordshire village. The emphasis is on folk but they like to mix it up a bit, this year we had the Buzzcocks, Dreadzone, Nik Kershaw and Steve Winwood.
Of the more usual acts the highlights for me were Seth Lakeman, Richard Thompson, The Churchfitters, Ralph Mctell, Feast of Fiddles and, the surprise guest, Usuf!
Adrian Edmondson was there with his band, The Bad Shepherds, doing punk songs in a folk style. It was a lot better than you would think.
We were very lucky with the weather and I cannot get over how enjoyable the whole thing was. Everyone was friendly and the setting was beautiful. At one point I was sat under a tree outside the pub with a beer in my hand watching the world go by in the sunshine and said to Elaine "I think I've died and gone to Cropredy!". We cant wait for next year.

Yusuf!

Elaine gets into the festival spirit!

Ade Edmenson, punk songs on folk instruments, Excellent!

Seth Lakeman, Young, Handsome, talented. Makes you sick doesn't it!

Cropredy, even the stage is small!

Dreadzone, the surprise hit of the festival.

Richard Thompson, absolutely incredible guitar playing!

Eddie Yates, Onslow or Twig? I guess it depends on your age.

Motorsport

Congrats to Lewis Hamilton on getting the F1 world championship title! Hells teeth it was close!

All in all a pretty good season, by formula one standards, but I prefer my motor racing a little lower budget these days, one afternoon at Smeatharpe has more action than an entire season of F1. But sadly I have to wait until February for the next meeting.

Halloween!

Or Samhain, check out Elle's post for some interesting ways to celebrate.

I'm afraid this festival brings out the little kid in me, I cant wait to carve pumpkins and get the huge supply of sweets in. If I had the technical ability I would be making some of the devises they have on the Make blog to scare the hell out of my little visitors!

The pumpkins have been a little disappointing this year so I have only carved one, but I am still quite pleased with it.

Feeling yuk!

There has been a bug going round at work lately and a couple of weeks ago i caught it. After a couple of days off, and missing out on going out on Exmoor on what was probably the last decent weekend of the year, I thought that would be it. Unfortunately for the last couple of weeks I have been feeling tired and run down and now it seems to have come back for another go. Never mind, I expect I shall survive. I have next week off so hopefully the rest will do me good.

Something missing.

Last weekend we had unseasonably warm weather but due to work there was no chance of me going anywhere far. Elaine suggested that we went up to Fyne Court in the afternoon. it has long been one of our favorite places to visit for a quiet afternoon in the Quantock Hills.


It is on the grounds of an old country house that burnt down many years ago and now only some outbuildings, now used as offices, and the boat house, folly and walled garden are left. It was also the home of Andrew Crosse, a 19th century scientist, geologist, naturalist, poet and walker. He should also be a Steampunk hero due to his experiments with electricity that led to him allegedly being one of the inspirations for Frankenstein!

The estate is the visitor center for the Quantock hills and has a number of short walks on and around the estate. I have visited it many times at different times of the year and love to watch the way the seasons change it.



This time, however, something was missing. The bouncy branch! For many years there was a tree limb overhanging a path that bent low towards the ground that was used as an amusement ride for young, and some not so young, children. My wife remembers sitting on it as a child and my daughter would insist on being bounced on it whenever we visited. But this time it was gone and somehow it seemed part of our childhood had gone. Its strange how something so simple can be missed so much. Even my daughter who is at an age where such things rarely impress her was disappointed when I told her.

Maybe the picture below gives a clue to a possible reason for its demise. Some kids don't know when its time to grow up!

There goes the neighbourhood!

I know my neighbors have been a bit of a pain at times and there are better people to be living next door.

However, at 10am yesterday a police van and 3 cars pulled up and a number policemen in full body armor and apparently with side arms (not something we see often in this country) proceeded to bash down their door and searched their house.

Seems it was a drugs raid. The father was taken away and released later, but seems to have disappeared at the moment. I knew he had been in prison before but I don't think it was for drugs.

Not the kind of thing you want next door! But it was quite entertaining and has certainly got all the neighbors talking at the moment.

First Wild Camp!

This post was started over a year ago after I had been on a two day trip on the South West Coast Path. I have decided to revive this blog and this seemed a good place to start, but whether I will keep it up is anyones guess!

Last weekend I finally got out on my own for a couple of days and used the kit I bought earlier this year.

I took the bus to Minehead and then another to County Gate where I finished walking a couple of years back. The bus was an open top one, a great way to travel so long as you don't sit on the left hand side where it is necessary to duck from time to time to avoid low branches! Amazingly it went straight up Porlock Hill rather than the less steep toll road.

The weather was quite good on the Saturday, cool with sunny spells, which made for more comfortable walking than other times i have been on Exmoor. I was quite surprised at how many people I saw on the path that day, this stretch is definitely one of the more popular areas.

I love the variety of scenery on the coast path, over the weekend I walked through narrow woodland paths, wide bridleways, open moorland, farmland, small towns and villages, deep valleys and, of course, exposed cliffs.



Lynmouth made a nice place to stop for dinner on the first day before taking the cliff railway to Lynton (was that cheating?) and on to the spectacular Valley of the Rocks which marks the edge of the ice cap during the last ice age.

For the next 5 miles I had the path more or less to myself, much of the land after Valley of the Rocks seems to belong to the Christian community of Lee Abbey, for a couple of miles I kept finding small signs with bible verses on them.

After a long stretch of road walking I found the beginning of Woody Bay and a more enjoyable part of the path, the highlight of which was a waterfall big enough to stand under! I considered taking a shower but decided it was far too cold so I took the opportunity to refill my camelback.



Eventually the path descended into Heddon Cleave where i had been told of a couple of good camping places, but the river seemed too loud to me and I decided to make my way back up towards the remains of a Roman Fort somewhere above the coast path, but not before a pint of Exmoor Ale at the nearby Hunters Inn!

On the way up I found a little area rather like a passing place on a country lane that looked nicely sheltered and with a sea view, this was definitely the place to camp. So after visiting the fort, a raised circular area of tussocky grass, I made my way back and pitched my tent. I watched the sun set until the cold drove me into my sleeping bag and slept on and off, haunted by those strange disjointed dreams that accompany a poor nights sleep.



The morning was cold and gray with a light rain and I broke camp and made my way down into the valley and back up the other side. As the path came out onto the exposed cliff I discovered just how sheltered I had been as a gale force wind whipped at me as I made my way along the narrow, scree covered path with nothing between me and the waves below. Four of five times I came to a rock outcrop where the path turned and the wind seemed all the stronger, causing me to hold on to the heather and edge round. Thankfully the path soon turned inland and back onto the moors.

The moors were certainly bleak and wind swept that day and I didn't see another person. The sheep eyed me suspiciously as if to say "You chose to be here? What are you up too?".



After the descending through Sherrycombe, a pretty little valley with a stream running through it, I started up Great Hangman, the highest point on the trail at a modest 1043 feet. I had been looking foreward to this point to see the views from the top, but the rain had now turned to sleet and the wind all the stronger, pulling at my backpack and almost blowing me off my feet. When I tried to turn round and take in the view the wind took my breath away and the sleet stung my face, so there was nothing for it but to press on.

So I carried on across the moor, past iron age hut circles and the smaller Little Hangman (I didn't try climbing that one) until I came to Combe Martin, and the end of my journey.

It was a shame the weather turned so bad that day as I reached Come Martin at just after 9:00 in the morning, I could easily have carried on along the path to Ilfracombe. But I enjoyed the walk and was glad to have finally had a go at wild camping.